A Quidditch Story
by Rotae
Summary: Set in Harry's seventh year when he and Malfoy finally become Quidditch Captains. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. More twists than your average Quidditch game... but the question is... Who Will Win? Please R&R! AU with HBP


_A.N. The song in this fan fiction is sung to the French National Anthem. When you see -R- for the first time, this means you are going into the past, when you see it again, you're in the present. Enjoy!_

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Harry poked his eggs around his plate and tried not to think how much this Quidditch match was riding on. This was his first game as Captain and he was determined not to mess it up. After seeing Ravenclaw get demolished by Hufflepuff just a month before, he was not willing to take any chances over their match with Slytherin. Not only was the rivalry between the houses still ripe, but for the first time Malfoy was the Slytherin Captain. He was prepared for Malfoy to pull anything out of the hat. After all, this was the person who had grabbed a hold of his broom to stop him catching the Snitch. 

_-R- _

When Harry had first gotten the line-up for the game off a very moody and disgruntled Malfoy, he had to admit, he was very surprised. There were a lot of people on the team that Harry had never even heard of, let alone seen fly. He hadn't been expecting many changes, but then there were three positions open, all of them Chasers. Harry thought that Malfoy was sure to go with the biggest and dumbest people he could find. So when Malfoy eventually handed over his precious line-up after a week of pestering from Harry, he had to re-read it twice before his brain registered what Malfoy's hand had written:

**_Slytherin Line-Up for 1997/98_**

**_Starters: Elliott Archibald Anderson, Millicent Daphne Bulstrode, Augustus Bernard Chamberland, Vincent Richard Crabbe, Draco Lucius Malfoy, James Michael Palmer and Margaret Jeanette Winston._**

**_Reserves: Gregory George Goyle, Jonathon Aaron Palmer_****_ and Alexander Graham Winston _**

Harry took this list to Ron in the Gryffindor Common Room so as to confer. Surely there had to be a mistake. There hadn't been a girl on the Slytherin Quidditch team in thirty years much less two, and why was Goyle suddenly on the bench? Could you even tell Crabbe and Goyle's abilities apart? Could it be that Malfoy was actually taking some risks?

Ron wasn't very helpful.

'Well, he's still got Crabbe as a Beater, so obviously Goyle is a Reserve Beater. Anderson was their Keeper last year, so that's him, and obviously Malfoy's the Seeker.'

'Yeah, I'd gotten that far Ron,' Harry sighed, 'but what about Bulstrode and Winston? And who the hell is Palmer?'

Ginny, who had taken the list off Ron was looking thoughtfully at the piece of parchment.

'Bullstrode is obviously taking over from Goyle, and Chamberland has been trying out for the past two years for Chaser, but Montague didn't play him; probably because he wasn't a huge ape. But as for James Palmer... wasn't he sorted into Slytherin this year? No, Malfoy can't have possibly put a First Year in the team. I must be wrong. It must have been last year.'

Harry sat back in his chair in thought. Had James Palmer been sorted into Slytherin this year? He tried to remember back to the Sorting Ceremony...

'Malfoy's been pouring over that thing night and day for the past two months Harry,' interrupted Hermione from her Ancient Runes assignment, 'and I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's spent a lot of the summer on it too. I hope you're not going to underestimate him. And yes, James Palmer was sorted into Slytherin this year. His brother, Jonathon was sorted into Slytherin two years ago.'

'How do you remember that?' Ron asked.

'I just remember things Ron, you should try it sometime.'

Ron grumbled something about not wanting to be boring and looked back down at the piece of parchment.

'So, why would Malfoy put a first year on the team? Unless he's really, really good with a Quaffle.'

'I think we'd better go and have a look at their practise tomorrow, what do you think Ron?' Harry muttered in a distracted tone. He was still trying to get over the line-up that looked like it was doomed. Why would Malfoy deliberately change the team so much from the norm?

'Sounds like a good idea to me. What is it they say? "Know thigh enemy?"'

'It's _thy_ Ron, not _thigh_. Honestly...'

'Shut-up Her-_thigh_-o-ne.'

Harry got the shock of his life when he and Ron went down to watch one of the Slytherin's training sessions. James Palmer was indeed a first year. He was only about as tall as Hermione had been in her first year, and he arms seemed to be just a little too long for his body. He could throw a Quaffle adequately, but he was by no means brilliant at it. Why Malfoy would choose him to be a Chaser was beyond Harry and Ron. But, their guesses about the positions had been correct. Crabbe and Bulstrode were Beaters, Anderson was the Keeper, Chamberland, Palmer and Winston were the Chasers, and Malfoy was yelling orders at his players while floating around on his new Nimbus 3000 looking for the Snitch. Occasionally he would make a sharp turn on his broom and speed off down the pitch after the Snitch, but he would never extend his arm and catch it. He would simply turn sharply again and speed back to where he could see everyone else and watch their progress. Apparently he was happy with his own performance. After about an hour of this, Malfoy called all of his team down to the centre of the pitch. He spoke to them for about five minutes, and then the team started to jog around the Quidditch pitch.

'What's he doing that for?' Ron asked.

'I dunno.'

'I mean, what does running have to do with flying a broomstick?'

'I really dunno Ron. This is all very weird.'

The Slytherin team didn't seem bad, but to Harry, there just seemed to be something wrong. They weren't playing with the usual animosity that he had expected from the Slytherin team. Malfoy had been unhappy to hand Harry the line-up. Perhaps this was why. Perhaps he was just unhappy with the line-up as opposed to unhappy at having to hand it over to Harry. He had to be up to something. But what? He'd given Harry the team line-up and that couldn't be changed. No matter what.

_-R-_

Harry led the rest of the Gryffindor team down to the pitch to inspect it. As they arrived they saw Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team heading into their change rooms.

'Okay, there's a bit of wind coming from the North, so that might get colder as we go on... it's overcast, so hopefully we won't have to worry about the sun getting in our eyes, but the ground is a bit muddy, so it'll be a slow kick-off. Okay?'

The team nodded in agreement.

'We'd better get to the changing rooms,' he added as the rest of the school started to approach the pitch. On the way, Ron pulled him aside.

'You know Harry; I reckon we stand a really good chance at winning this. We've got by far the more experienced team, and Malfoy seems to have made a real idiot of himself putting Palmer in the team so young. Maybe he's gone mad.'

'Hmmm...' Harry muttered. He couldn't help but feel that there was still something he was missing.

'This is the first time I've felt really confident Harry. I reckon I'm going to do the best job today!' Ron added as he walked off to slip on his robes. Harry didn't reply. He tried to forget the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and pulled on his robes. After ten minutes (which to Harry seemed like one), he checked his watch and motioned for the team to head out to the pitch.

The noise was deafening. There were cheers from the scarlet and gold clad Gryffindors, boos from the green and silver Slytherins, a large amount of support from the Hufflepuffs and some applause from the Ravenclaws.

'Here come the Gryffindors, led out by Captain Potter!' yelled Professor Galder (the Muggle Studies Professor) over the crowd. 'Potter, Andrews, Hooper, Kirke, Sloper, Weasley and Weasley! That's every position now for one of the Weasleys. With Ron as Keeper and Ginny as Chaser. Also Charlie Weasley a few years ago now was a Seeker, and who could forget the infamous Fred and George, the battiest Beaters I've ever seen!'

There was a loud cheer from the crowd. Fred and George's name still got a standing ovation from anyone who heard them.

'And here come the Slytherins, led out by their new Captain Malfoy! Palmer, Anderson, Bulstrode, Chamberland, Crabbe, Malfoy and Winston. My, my, he certainly has made a change in the line-up this year! Not one, but two girls on the Slytherin team this year, the first in over thirty years from the Slytherin house. Well-done girls. We also have a record that has been broken; Harry Potter no longer owns the record for the youngest Seeker this century, young Mr Jimmy Palmer has broken it by a period of two months! Good on you, Jimmy.'

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

'What did he say?' Harry yelled to no one in particular.

'It doesn't matter Harry,' Ron said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. 'You were the first. Malfoy probably just did it to spite you.'

'No, Ron, didn't you hear? He said the youngest _Seeker_! And Malfoy's name wasn't called first! That means... oh no... that means that Palmer isn't a Chaser at all! He's their _Seeker_!'

Harry looked over at Malfoy; he was tying his hair back with a black ribbon and had the most satisfied smirk on his face that Harry had ever seen. Harry marched over to where Malfoy was standing so that he was only a foot away from the other Captain.

'What do you think you're doing?!' yelled Harry.

'Tying my hair back Potter,' Malfoy drawled in that tone that made Harry want to punch him. 'Some of us like to keep our hair from looking like we've just stepped out of a particularly friendly brothel.'

'You can't do that!'

'I can't tie my hair back?' Malfoy laughed, as did most of the Slytherin team. 'I think you'll find I can.'

'You know what I mean!' accused Harry. 'You deliberately mislead me into believing that Palmer was a Chaser.'

'And how did I do that?'

Madame Hooch approached the scene with a stern look on her face.

'What is going on here? Potter, why aren't you over your side of the pitch?'

'Malfoy has broken some sort of rule!'

'Me?' asked Malfoy, with an air of innocence about him. 'I haven't broken any rules at all.'

'What's he done Potter?'

'He told me that he was playing Seeker, and now I find Palmer is! He's supposed to tell me about any changes to the positions.'

'I think you'll find, Potter, I'm only obliged to tell you when I change the _line-up_, not the positions. Besides, I resent the fact that you say I told you I was Seeker. I did nothing of the sort. I gave you our line-up and you merely assumed that I would be playing the position of Seeker.'

Harry felt like he'd been smacked with a thick plank.

'But... you were playing Seeker when you were practising!'

'I was showing Palmer some moves, and he said that once he gets a bit taller he might like to be a Chaser in the coming years. I was merely giving him a chance, after all, after this year there will be _my_ position as Chaser open.'

'But... but...'

'Mr Potter, it seems that Mr Malfoy has broken no rules. If there is nothing else, can we please get on with the game?'

Harry nodded, feeling numb. He couldn't believe that Malfoy had done this. He'd always been Seeker, what had changed? He walked back to his team.

'He hasn't broken any rules,' he said grimly. 'We're just going to have to do our best.'

'But Harry,' Ginny protested, 'we don't know anything about Malfoy as a Chaser! What if he's really good?'

'We're just going to have to hope that Montague, and the other Captains didn't make him a Chaser because they didn't think he was good enough.'

'Unlikely,' grumbled Hooper.

'They've got that little boy riding a fast broom Harry,' Kirke added. 'He's going to be carrying less weight than you. He's going to be faster. And you haven't seem him flying Seeker either.'

'Just do your best Harry,' Ginny said softly. 'We all will.'

Ron had gone extremely pale. He looked like he was going to be sick.

'Ron, are you okay?'

'I can't do this Harry,' he muttered. 'Malfoy's going to get to me again, I know it.'

'He won't if you don't let him. You'll be fine Ron.'

'Captains, shake hands!' Madame Hooch called from the centre of the pitch.

Harry walked over to where Malfoy was waiting for him. Looking him directly in the eye, Malfoy extended his hand. Harry looked down at it for a moment, then up at Malfoy and shook his hand. He certainly had a strong handshake.

'Good luck Potter,' he said icily. 'You're going to need it.'

Harry broke the handshake and watched as Malfoy moved to the Chaser line, and little Palmer moved opposite Harry. He looked a little scared, but confident. Harry took this free moment to take a look at the Slytherins brooms. Palmer was flying a Nimbus 3000, the latest on the market. Crabbe and Bulstrode were sporting Firebolt's, Anderson, Chamberland and Winston all had Nimbus 2500's, and Harry got the shock of his life when he saw Malfoy's. It was his old Nimbus 2001! But, hadn't Malfoy been riding _his_ new Nimbus 3000? None of this made any sense.

'Mount your brooms! Three... two... one...'

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and everyone kicked off from the ground. Ron and Anderson flew to their goalposts, Harry and Palmer soared high above everyone else, and the Slytherin and Gryffindor Chasers scrambled for the Quaffle.

'And it's Margaret Winston of Slytherin with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Gryffindor posts, she passes it off to Chamberland, Elliott Chamberland now with the Quaffle – oh, nice Bludger work there from Kirke of Gryffindor! Gryffindor now in possession, Weasley looking steady as she – no! The Captain of Slytherin intercepts Quaffle! Draco Malfoy streaking up the pitch, Weasley not able to catch him, he ducks a good Bludger from Hooper and speeds towards the Keeper, Ron Weasley, looking good for the middle goal – wait! He's passed it off to Winston, who quickly YES! SHE SCORES! TEN – ZERO TO SLYTHERIN!'

Harry watched as the Slytherin Chasers whooped in delight and Ron retrieved the Quaffle, handing it to Sloper.

'Gryffindor in possession, Adrian Sloper handing it to Andrews who passes – no! Again Captain Malfoy intercepts the Quaffle and heads straight down towards Weasley, he passes to Winston, back to Malfoy, to Chamberland, to Winston who receives some good Bludger work by Kirke, but Malfoy scoops up the Quaffle passing it very quickly to Winston, who, no, it's Malfoy again who heads up into the air! Malfoy is flying straight up! Andrews and Sloper are following, but wait! Malfoy doesn't have the Quaffle anymore! Where- ah! Chamberland has it! He's streaking towards the Keeper he shoots- AND SCORES!! ANOTHER GOAL TO SLYTHERIN! TWENTY-ZERO SLYTHERIN'S WAY! That is the finest Porskoff Ploy I've seen in years! And what's this? Palmer seems to have spotted the Snitch!'

Harry turned around so fast he was sure he'd received some whiplash. Palmer was indeed racing around the pitch after a glitter of gold. Heart pumping, Harry raced after him, Palmer was flying a lot faster than Harry, and Harry urged his Firebolt on. It had never failed him yet. Palmer suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned sharply at the last moment so that he turned in the direction he had come from and sped off down the pitch. This was obviously one of the moves that Malfoy had been showing him. Harry looked around to where Palmer was now hovering on his broomstick. He gave Harry a wink and moved up into the air to get a better view. Harry was confused, the Snitch was now nowhere to be seen, but Palmer could have gotten it! Why had he suddenly changed directions, and why hadn't he caught it? Meanwhile, the rest of the Gryffindor team were in trouble.

'ANOTHER GOAL TO WINSTON! Slytherin are absolutely thrashing Gryffindor, they lead 90 –10! These three Chasers are the best I've seen in years! What teamwork! It certainly makes you wonder why they were not selected years ago!'

Harry took a glance at Ron. He was looking pale and exhausted. Harry signalled a time-out. He needed to confer with everyone. The Gryffindor team slowly made their way down to the ground. They all looked miserable.

'It could be worse...' Ginny suggested quietly.

'Could be worse?' Ron asked incredulously. 'They're eighty points up, and we've only been going ten minutes! How much worse could it get?'

'Look Harry,' said Kirke, 'just catch the bloody thing. There is no way we're going to win this match if you don't catch that ruddy thing soon.'

Harry looked around at his team, and they all nodded.

'You should have some faith in yourselves! You're doing fine, you're just a bit shocked, we all are. We've never been against most of this team. And out of the ones we have, only two have kept their positions! Just have some faith and do your best, that's all I ask for.'

'Harry...' Ron started. 'I _have_ been trying. I've been doing my best work out there and I've only stopped two! They're just too good for us at the moment. Just catch it so we can stop the humiliation.'

'Yeah, well, that's not always as easy as it looks,' replied Harry.

'If it does get to the point where you still haven't caught the Snitch, and they're one hundred and fifty points up, Harry,' Sloper said quietly, 'just catch it. We'll get them next time when we're more prepared. I'd rather just get this over with.'

'We _can _win this! Just do your best that's all I ask.'

'I agree with Adrian, Harry,' Sandra said slowly. 'If it does come to a point where we can't win even if you do catch it, just get it over with, okay?'

The rest of the team nodded in agreement. It seemed to Harry that they had already made their minds up that they weren't going to win.

'Just promise me you'll keep trying, okay?' Harry pleaded.

'Of course we will,' Ginny said firmly. 'Right?'

A chorus of 'yes's', 'of course's' and 'sure's' ensued. Harry nodded and they flew back into the air, where the Slytherin's were waiting for them. Malfoy was smirking, Crabbe and Bulstrode were holding their bats lazily over their shoulders and the other Chasers were cracking their knuckles. Palmer was sitting on his broom with a look of excitement and pride upon his face.

'And Madame Hooch releases the Quaffle and – they're off! Weasley of Gryffindor streaking towards the Slytherin goal posts, she ducks a Bludger from Crabbe and is coming up to Bulstrode who seems _not to be paying attention_ to the oncoming Weasley! Ginny passes – NO! Ginny Weasley is the victim of some amazing Bludger work by Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin, tricking her into a Bludger Backbeat! Amazing work from a talented lady! But Sloper has caught the Quaffle and is now dodging Malfoy, he passes Malfoy and heads towards – wait, he's stopped! Why has he stopped? Malfoy is turning in the opposite direction, back towards the Gryffindor goal - I don't believe it! He's intercepted it again! This must be a record for interceptions by one player! Boy, does he want that Quaffle! He passes to Chamberland, who shoots and… NICE SAVE BY RON WEASLEY!'

Harry looked around at Ron and clapped. Ron was throwing it back to Andrews, when-

'ANOTHER INTERCEPTION BY SLYTHERIN! Winston shoots and- SHE SCORES! 100-10 Slytherin's way!'

The next thirty minutes were what could only be described as a slaughter. Slytherin scored seven goals to one, leaving the score at 170-20. The one time Harry had seen the Snitch it had disappeared from view in an instant, and again Palmer led him on a wild goose chase. Ginny Weasley and Sandra Andrews were heading for the Slytherin goal when Harry saw the Snitch. If they scored before Harry caught the Snitch, then Gryffindor would win. But Palmer had spotted it also, and was now racing off towards it, Harry was closer and knew that if even if he caught it now, they wouldn't lose. They would tie. Palmer was flying the fastest Harry had seen anyone fly. No wonder Malfoy had chosen him. Harry was closing in on it, but Palmer was right behind him. He tried to block out all of the noise that was surrounding him. He heard the crowd roaring, it sounded like Sandra had scored. This was his chance. He reached out his hand, feeling Palmer coming along side him. He could scratch the thing with his fingernails. Kirke sent a Bludger towards Palmer, who ducked out of the way, giving Harry just enough time to-

'YES!'

'Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! 150 points will be added to the Gryffindor score, making it 170-180 Gryffindor's way! Now, back to the action at the goal posts. Ginny Weasley seems to be arguing that she was _not_ in the area when Andrews scored, but no Madam Hooch is having none of it. Ten points has been taken from Gryffindor!'

'What?' Harry yelled to Ron.

'Ginny was in the scoring circle when Sandra scored. They're disallowing the goal,' Ron muttered grimly.

'So, that's a disallowed goal for Gryffindor, making the score 170-170 a piece! And Madame Hooch is giving a penalty shot to Slytherin, for Ginny Weasley's arguing with the referee, which adds to the foul! Because this foul was made before the capture of the Snitch, it will certainly be counted!'

'Oh no!' Ron sighed.

'Ron, don't worry about it. You'll save it! Just think positively. We could tie this!'

'I'll try Harry.'

The three Slytherin Chasers flew over to the Gryffindor goal. Malfoy had the Quaffle. _Oh no..._

'And Captain Malfoy is going to be taking the penalty for Slytherin.'

A hush fell over the crowd as Malfoy hovered on the penalty line, looking Ron directly in the eyes. The seconds seemed to tick by slowly, and Malfoy raised his left arm. Ron looked ready. Malfoy threw the Quaffle towards the right hand goal post with alarming speed. Ron dived, and-

'MALFOY SCORES! SLYTHERIN WIN! FINAL SCORES 180-170! WELL DONE SLYTHERIN! We'll be looking forward to seeing more from this team in the future!'

The Slytherin team looked overjoyed. They flew around the pitch in a victory lap to the screams of the crowd and finally dismounted to the ground. Bulstrode and Crabbe lifted Palmer onto their shoulders and the Slytherins started to sing:

_We are the pride of Slytherin  
We wear silver, green and black  
We will always fight for victory  
Like Salazar S of old_

_All for one, and one for all  
We will answer to the call  
Go Slytherin, great Slytherin  
We'll throw the winning score  
We're the best, of the four!_

Next to him, the other Gryffindor players floated down to the ground.

'Don't worry guys,' Harry said to no one in particular. 'We'll get them next time. This is just the beginning.'

Harry and the rest of the team watched as the Slytherins celebrated. Unable to move, Harry stood, rooted to the spot as eventually the rest of the Gryffindor team walked off. Harry got back on his broomstick once everyone had gone, and flew slowly around the pitch for a while. What he didn't notice, however, was that he wasn't alone.

Draco Malfoy was standing on the pitch watching him.

'Oi, Potter!' he called out.

Harry ignored him. The last person he wanted to hear from was Draco Malfoy, and how _he_ was so brilliant. He wasn't in the mood for bragging. Malfoy evidently _did_ want to talk to him, because he took his wand out and yelled 'Accio broomstick' which sent his own broomstick flying over to him, after which he flew up to meet Harry.

'What do you want Malfoy?'

'Easy Potter, I just wanted a chat.'

'A chat? Malfoy, I am not in the mood for your gloating.'

'I am not going to _gloat_, as you so eloquently put it. I simply wished to thank you.'

'What for?'

'For putting on a good game.' Malfoy extended his hand to Harry. Harry eyed him. Did he really expect Harry to shake his hand? Was this a trick? Apparently not. Malfoy had not retracted his arm and was looking expectantly at Harry. Harry eventually decided to shake hands. It couldn't hurt after all. 'You did well,' Malfoy continued. 'I don't know what I would have done if I was you.'

'Are you sure you're feeling all right?' Harry asked as they stopped shaking hands.

'I have always acknowledged that you are a good Quidditch player, Potter. There's no denying that. As much as I loathe every fibre of your being, you do fly quite well. And you put up a good team.'

Harry was just about to ask him why he was being polite when he spotted the broom that Malfoy was riding.

'Malfoy, whose broom are you riding?'

Malfoy frowned.

'My own of course.'

'But that's a Nimbus 3000...'

'Yes...'

'But you were riding your old Nimbus 2001 this afternoon.'

'Yes...'

'So why didn't you ride your _new_ broom?'

'Oh, victory tastes just tastes that much sweeter when you know it's the _person_ on the broom that's better, as opposed to your equipment being of a higher standard.'

And with that, Malfoy flew off, leaving Harry to feel quite confused. Where had this sudden sportsmanship come from?

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_A.N. Please review! I love reviews! :)_  



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